


Sweet Daydreams

by raspberryseedz



Category: Hotel Transylvania (2012)
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5262560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberryseedz/pseuds/raspberryseedz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After moving into the hotel, Dracula struggles to get a toddler Mavis used to sleeping in a new room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a cross-post from ff.net that I wrote back in 2012. I'm reposting all my Hotel T stuff here just because I think I like the archive format better.
> 
> At the time it was just an exercise in writing the characters before I launched into the much larger story I wanted to write. It's undiluted sap, but it actually really helped me figure out Dracula and where I wanted to take him and Mavis in the future.

**Sweet Daydreams**

* * *

 

Putting Mavis to bed was a long and often complicated process. It usually involved spontaneous chases, which lately included her transforming into a bat the second he caught up with her, baths that ended with half the water on the floor, and Mavis pulling out just about every storybook on her shelf as she tried to decide which one she wanted him to read. Lately she had adopted an "I can do it myself" attitude to just about everything, which made things like getting dressed and fang brushing much longer and messier than they would be otherwise. Also factor in that half their things were still mixed up in crates, waiting to be unpacked as he dealt with the chaos of moving, and their first day in the hotel was doomed to be a long one.

Dracula had to talk her into wearing her spider pajamas since he couldn't find her bat ones, and he dug through at least five crates looking for her Rapunzel book since he bribed her into going to bed on time in the first place by promising to read it, specifically. Finally, she was all tucked in, he'd finished the story, and she was starting to look drowsy. He blocked out all her windows, put out all the candles, and kissed the top of her head before leaving.

He bypassed most of his own bedtime routine and simply collapsed backwards into his coffin. The hotel wasn't even open yet and he was already exhausted. Granted, that was partly because he didn't have much of a staff yet. A few suits of armor and some of the construction crew were still around, not much else. He finally put aside the foreboding thoughts of all the hiring he'd have to do out of his mind long enough to catch some much-needed sleep.

It was then he heard the scream.

His head smacked against the coffin lid as he tried to bolt upright. Holding his forehead, he stumbled out into the hall, flicking a wrist to bring up the lights.

"Mavis!" he shouted. "Mavis, are you alright?!" He sped into her room, throwing back the pink covers to find her bed empty. "Mavis?" He checked under the bed, the corner behind her dresser, and tore open her closet. She wasn't there. Something in his chest started to twist.

"What's the disturbance, sir?" One of the suits of armor poked his helmet into the room.

"My daughter is missing. I want her found immediately."

"Yes sir!" The armor snapped to it's full height and saluted.

Dracula stood frozen, trying not to let his mind succumb to blind panic. He'd gotten there too quickly for her to have gone far, but if she wasn't in the room… His gaze drifted to the windows, the black curtains dimly haloed with sunlight. She knew better than to go near those. He'd told her so many times what would happen. She knew the light would hurt her. Didn't she?

He moved closer to the curtain, reaching for it, not quite knowing why. What if she'd somehow gotten out? What if she was trapped or lost or worse? What would he do then?

Suddenly, the armor reappeared. "Sir, the dumbwaiter was opened."

"What?"

"She must've crawled in and caused it to drop. Stevens says she's down in the kitchen."

"She's what?!" Dracula erupted. He flashed down flights of stairs as a trail of purple smoke and burst into the kitchen in mere moments. A second suit of armor was there, Stevens apparently, his metal hands gesturing at the opened dumbwaiter as he attempted to coax something out of it.

Dracula pushed passed him and, sure enough, there was Mavis, sitting in the lift like a little ball, her legs tucked into her chest and her face pressed against her knees. He released a quick breath as the panic began to recede.

"Mavy, honey, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

She lifted her head slightly at the sound of his voice, just enough so he could see her eyes. Then she wordlessly stretched out her arms the way she'd done as an infant when she wanted to be held. He reached in and pulled her out.

"It's alright, my little one. Daddy's got you." He hugged her as tightly as he could to his chest. She bunched his cape into her tiny fists and buried her face in his collar. "You're safe now, little mouse," he soothed.

Then he turned to the suit of armor. "I want every dumbwaiter in this place blocked off. Contact the foreman and tell him I want them filled in as soon as possible."

"Of course, sir," the armor replied.

Dracula nodded in thanks before heading out, murmuring comforting words to his daughter till they were back in her bedroom. "What were you doing in the dumbwaiter, Mavy? You were supposed to be in bed. You could've been hurt." He tried to maneuver the girl so he could look her in the eye but she fastened herself even tighter to his neck.

"You're alright now, Mavis." He sat at the edge of her bed, unlatching her fingers one by one until he was free of her grip. "We need to go back to sleep now." He set her down.

"NO!" Her reaction was so loud and so immediate it startled him almost as badly as learning she'd been dropped down the dumbwaiter shaft. She jumped off her bed and flung herself around his waist, squeezing like a vice.

"Mavis, what's wrong?" he asked, the horrible twisting feeling returning. "It's just your same old bed. Don't you like your old bed?"

"No!" Her cry was muffled into his shirt. A lump formed in Dracula's throat. He'd assumed she'd been frightened by her experience in the lift but he still didn't know what made her crawl inside in the first place. Mavis liked small, dark places, especially when she was scared. She was always burrowing into blankets or hiding behind furniture when he read her scary human stories. Though how she knew there was a tiny elevator just down the hall he couldn't know for sure. He obviously wasn't going to get anything out of her in this state either.

"Mavis," he said softly, "would it be better if you stayed with Daddy in his coffin just for today?" The child nodded. "Okay, Sweet-fangs, come here." He scooped her up once more, this time taking her into his room.

They redid a bit of the bedtime routine. She was fast asleep before he got halfway through Rapunzel, and he put out all the candles and kissed her forehead before drifting off to sleep himself.

* * *

The next night Mavis acted like nothing unusual had happened at all. She woke up before he did and sat flipping through the pages of her book, her feet kicking happily in the enclosed space. Even he couldn't see well enough to read it with the coffin closed, but she didn't seem to mind. She also didn't seem to mind that the coffin was really only made to fit one person so she ended up rolling and kicking him most of the day.

She never directly answered him when he asked about the dumbwaiter, preferring to prattle on and on about some adorable beetle family she'd made up with rainbow wings. He spent half the evening unpacking and the other half trying to keep Mavis from painting the ceilings with her watercolors. He won that battle by skillfully tickling her into submission, which truthfully only ended up spilling more paint, but it was the principle of the thing. At dinner she insisted on cutting up her food by herself. She stabbed uselessly at her mouse with a butter knife, giggling impishly whenever it sunk in. He cut one of his mice into bite-sized pieces and snuck them onto her plate when she wasn't looking.

He found her bat pajamas, which made that part of bedtime move smoothly for once. In fact, she was behaving just fine until he started to leave. He flicked a wrist to extinguish all the candles and turned to kiss her forehead, only to find she had crawled to the floor and attached herself to his pant leg.

"No, Daddy, I want to go with you," she said in a small whine.

"Babyclaws, that was just for one day, remember. You need to sleep in your own room, now."

"But I don't want to!"

"Is this because of what happened yesterday? Is that why you're scared of your bed?"

She nodded solemnly.

"Is it something in the room that scared you?"

She shook her head to say 'no'.

"Is it something in your coffin? Or under it?" He bent down to peek under her bed.

She shook her head again.

"If it isn't something in the room…" Dracula looked around, trying to put the pieces of what his daughter was telling him together like some bizarre puzzle. "Is it… is it something… that you dreamed? Did you have a bad daydream?"

Her uncharacteristic stillness gave him a more definitive answer than any words could. She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around herself. His heart jolted into his throat.

"There, there, Sweetheart. Do not be frightened. It's all right." He gently lifted her into his arms. She settled against his shoulder. "Can you tell Daddy what it was? Telling Daddy will make you feel better," he suggested.

Mavis responded with an impromptu yawn, her budding fangs showing. "I… dunno," she mumbled.

"You don't know what it was, or you don't know if you can tell me?"

"I dunno."

Dracula sighed. Mavis sleeping in his bed wasn't a huge problem; perhaps she was already too old for it, he didn't know. But the fact that it was stemming from some fear, something hidden inside her mind where he was helpless to do anything, worried him. Already he could feel the knot beginning to form somewhere behind his heart.

"You can stay with Daddy, Mavis," he reassured her. "You can always stay with Daddy."


	2. Part 2

"The place is looking pretty sharp, Drac," Murray commented, appreciatively tipping back a glass of wine. "Could probably use a bandstand or something, though. Right over there." He wiggled his stumpy, bandaged fingers in the direction of the garden.

"Oh, I have already arranged for entertainment. You'll never guess who I got," Dracula remarked with obvious pride.

"Who?" Wanda asked with genuine interest.

"No, no, I want it to be a surprise," he grinned.

Wayne and Frankenstein exchanged a look. "Knowing Drac it'll be some classy act that's been dead for a hundred years." Frank playfully elbowed Dracula in the shoulder, which due to their relative sizes looked a bit like a freight train playfully bumping a telegraph pole.

"Careful," Dracula hissed, partly out of wounded pride that Frank's description was pretty much accurate and partly due to the four-year-old girl sleeping in his lap. "You'll wake Mavis."

The softhearted giant gave a slight grimace and whispered an apology.

"Man, you gotta get with the times," Murray sighed, his chair creaking under him as he leaned back. "You should hear these cats I know, playin' this beat they call ragtime. It's music you can dance to, y'know what I mean."

"I'll… keep that in mind," Dracula sipped at his drink. Sometimes he wondered if Murray meant what he said literally or if it was supposed to be code for something.

"Aw, you guys wore the little tyke out." The five monsters jumped at the sudden appearance of a sixth voice, all searching in confusion until a pair of glasses floating above an empty, yet somehow walking, suit complete with trench coat appeared to evidence the invisible man's arrival. "I was all set to play tag," he whined.

"Very funny, Invisible Man," Dracula said dryly, rolling his eyes for good measure.

"Hey, I can play fair! Why do you think I'm wearing my suit?" he protested.

"Got here pretty late, Griffin. Traffic?" Wayne asked, pulling the wine bottle out to pour him a glass.

"Nah, landlord's on my tail again. Had to backtrack through the mountains to make sure I ditched him. I hate that guy." Griffin took a swig, the red liquid sloshed in the air before sliding in a small stream into the empty collar of his coat. "So, what'd I miss? The party come and go already?"

"Technically we open tomorrow," Dracula explained.

"We were helping set up. Wait till you see the pool!" Frank said enthusiastically.

"And Mavis helped catch all the fireflies lighting around the pool deck," Wanda added.

"No wonder she's conked out," Griffin remarked.

"It was almost her bedtime, anyway," Dracula adjusted his hold on her, supporting her head protectively as it leaned against the crook of his arm. She'd left little dark splotches of drool on his jacket, which he chose to ignore. "It'll be good for her to get a little extra sleep."

"Has she been having trouble sleeping?" Wanda asked.

"Not exactly," Dracula said. "She sleeps just fine, as long as she's not in her own bed. She gets daydreams. Bad ones."

"Oh, the poor dear." Wanda clasped her hands together in empathy.

"What kind of daydreams?" Frank asked.

"She won't tell me." Dracula admitted sadly.

"Can't you hypnotize it out of her, or erase her memory or something?" Griffin asked. He was met with an icy glare from the vampire that could've frozen the sun solid. Griffin's empty suit sunk a little in his chair. "I was just asking," he said sheepishly.

"It's possible she doesn't know how to tell you," Wanda replied sagely. She had grown up the eldest in a family of seventeen puppies, which gave her a maternal wisdom that seemed almost instinctive.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't always remember your dreams, do you? She may not remember exactly what it was, or she may not have the words to explain it. A lot of my siblings were like that. They'd have dreams about large, black spots crushing them and we'd figure out much later they had been frightened by one of the neighbor's cows."

"A wolf frightened by a cow?" Murray asked, quirking his head as if that would help him envision the scenario.

Wanda just shrugged. "They were puppies. It happens."

"How do you get them to stop?" Dracula asked her with rapt attention.

"Oh, they mostly just grow out of it. We'd all pile into the same bed so anyone who woke up with a bad dream would have the whole family there to calm them down."

"That never would've happened in my house," her husband chimed in. "My dad wouldn't have allowed it. He'd say, 'Kids need to learn to fend for themselves. Kids need independence. Kids need boundaries…'"

"Kids need to know they're safe," Wanda countered.

"Mavis is safe," Dracula cut in, probably more defensive than he needed to be. "She's independent, too. She wants to do everything else on her own, just with sleeping she needs me there. Otherwise she wakes up screaming."

"Poor kid," Frank murmured sympathetically. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since we moved," he said, briefly summarizing the incident with the dumbwaiter and her behavior afterwards. "She's been sleeping in my coffin everyday since," he finished.

"Weren't you two sharing a room when you lived in the safe house?" Wanda asked.

"Yes, but not the same bed. She wanted her own room so badly before, asked me practically every night. But she won't go near it after daylight."

"Have you tried sleeping in her room with her?" Wanda asked.

"Would that help?"

"It might." The wolf leaned forward, "Try looking at this from Mavis's point of view. Since she was a baby she's always slept in the same room with you close by. Now, she wakes up in a strange new place all alone and doesn't know where to find you. That would frighten any child. She clings to you because you're the one thing that's remained consistent in both homes. Gives her some familiarity. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, of course," Dracula's brow furrowed in thought. "Was it wrong then, to give her the bedroom all to herself?"

"There's no set right or wrong way to raise a child, Drac. She'll probably come around to sleeping on her own eventually. If you slept in her bed with her for a couple of days instead of taking her to your room she might get more comfortable with the idea that it's a safe place to sleep. That is, if you don't want her sleeping in your coffin with you anymore."

* * *

 

He ultimately decided to try Wanda's suggestion. Mavis's coffin was at least two sizes too small for him and he had sleep with his knees bent in order to fit on it. Halfway through the day he woke with a sore back and gave up, moving them both back to his room so he could at least get some semblance of comfortable sleep. The next few days didn't fare much better.

Mavis was so excited to have their unofficial extended family over to play with she got up extra early and fought her own sleep schedule to stay up longer. He spent the week racing between supervising the staff, most of which were still getting used to their new jobs, and supervising Mavis in pool games and piggy-back rides. Wayne caught him yawning an embarrassing number of times, which made him the butt end of several nap related jokes and earned Wayne a few "Just wait till you have kids" comments from him.

Zombie Beethoven went over rather well, or at least it seemed to. He nodded off somewhere in the middle of Moonlight Sonata and when the booming opening to the Egmont Overture startled him awake he found Murray swinging a giggling Mavis around in a kind of light dance thoroughly inappropriate to the music.

"Y'know, Drac, you can take a break and get some shuteye for a while," Frank said, resting a concerned hand on his back. "We can look after Mavis."

"I'm fine," Dracula shrugged the large hand off, mustering a small smile. Murray tossed Mavis high into the air and caught her as she squealed joyfully. Dracula's heart seized.

"Ooookay! I think that's just about enough of that!" The vampire shot to the large mummy, who had the good decency to look slightly guilty as he handed the child over.

"Aw, Daddy…" Mavis groaned.

* * *

 

He hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch in Mavis's room. He'd only meant to rest for a second while she tried to change into her nightgown and the taxation of the hotel's opening week combined with the lack of decent sleep in so long finally caught up with him. Mavis didn't try to wake him, or if she did it hadn't worked. When he woke up suddenly she was curled up on the couch next to him, startled awake by his sudden movement.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" she mumbled.

"Nothing, Dead-ums. I'm sorry, Daddy wasn't supposed to fall asleep here."

"Did you have a bad dream?"

"No, I… Mavy, did you have a bad dream?" he asked.

She shook her head, her large eyes half shut. "Can we go to Daddy's room now?" she asked.

Dracula was torn. He did not want to carry her all the way back to his bedroom again, but he didn't want to sleep squished on the couch anymore either. He'd frankly rather sleep on the floor at this point.

"We need to sleep here, Mavis," he tried to explain, "Daddy is too tired to move. Why don't you hop in your coffin and Daddy will sleep on the floor next to you and protect you, yes?"

"But there's no lid."

"Lid?" Dracula sat up. "What lid?"

Mavis cupped one hand and slowly slid her other flat over it, miming his coffin closing. "Is that why you want to sleep in Daddy's coffin? Because it has a lid?"

She nodded lazily. "Can I have one?"

"No, Pumpkin, you're too young. You wouldn't be able to get out. I don't want you getting stuck." He briefly thought of Mavis crawling behind her dresser, inside the dumbwaiter, curling up and hiding her eyes. Mavis loved dark, small spaces.

"How about this," he took her hand, slowly rising from the couch as his muscles ached in protest. "You sleep here, and you can pull your blanket up if you get scared," he showed her what he meant, dragging her pink blanket up over her head till she was covered completely. "And I'll be right here, just like at the old house. You didn't need a lid then, remember?" He pulled the blanket back and she watched him with wide, wary eyes, as if she was expecting him to disappear. He carefully reached out to stroke her hair back; fixing the errant strands that got tousled under the blanket. Mavis stared quietly. He tried to shove away the now familiar knot of worry that they might never get over this.

Please, trust me. Please, don't be scared anymore. When you're scared, I'm scared.

Slowly, Mavis's eyes lulled shut. She sunk into her pillows with a sigh and Dracula let out a relieved sigh of his own. He kissed her head, stretched out next to her bed and slept as stiff as a corpse.

* * *

 

Mavis slept soundly that day, and the following day. By the third day it was becoming clear she didn't need him to sleep on the floor next to her anymore. She always woke with a gleeful, "No bad dreams, Daddy!" before hopping onto his stomach and nearly knocking the wind out of him.

When he finally explained to her that he was going to leave to go back to his own room it hardly fazed her. She went through the whole routine, the bath, brushing her fangs, reading a book, without so much as a whimper. Dracula put out the candles and kissed her forehead like he always did, and she made no move to cling to him, no plea to get him to stay or take her with him. And she slept perfectly fine.

At first he was relieved, and also quite proud. His baby girl had done it. She had conquered her nightmares. She no longer woke up screaming or tried to escape into whatever tight space she could find. Her mother would've been proud, too.

He lay awake in his coffin thinking this. He could relax now, his child was sleeping fine all on her own. And yet, the initial relief was quickly slipping away into something else entirely. Some persistent gnawing feeling that he had just been robbed of something. The coffin seemed a bit too big now. There was no little Mavis to roll over and kick him in her sleep or cling to his clothes or poke him awake at night.

He got up, creeping silently back through the hall and easing into her room with all the presence of a ghost. Mavis was fast asleep, perfectly content in her little coffin with pink sheets and no lid. He sat on the edge of the bed and wondered if this was what it would be like from now on; if she would always grow out of things just as he was starting to grow into them.

Mavis rolled over, knocking a pillow to the floor in her wake. He bent down to pick it up, tucking it back into place behind her head, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms and never let her go again. She pulled at the pillow, nuzzling her nose into the fabric. He smiled.

"You still need me, don't you, baby."

He pushed her hair back, kissing her forehead briefly before leaving.

* * *

 

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I guessed Mavis's age: The prologue shows her as an infant in 1895 and a toddler/preschool-ish by 1898 when the hotel opens 3 years later, which is pretty on track with how humans age. I decided putting her birthyear at 1894 would make sense with the rate she ages in the prologue, making her 4 years old when the hotel opens (the HT wiki also gives her a Sept. 1894 birthday).  
> My theory on how this works is that when vampires are born (and not turned from already living people) they start out aging much like a human would and at a certain point the aging process slows down exponentially, so it might take 3 years for her to age like a human 3 year old but 9 years to age like a 6 year old and 20 years to get to 10, etc. so that by the time she's gotten up to say Drac's age the rate is so slow it's practically stopped altogether. This would also kinda explain why she ages at all instead of staying an infant for eternity, though I don't think vampire babies are ever gonna make 100% sense ^^.


End file.
